To Love A Holmes
by BitterSweetImagination
Summary: "Hear my soul speak. Of the very instant that I saw you, Did my heart fly at your service" Sherlock/OC
1. Murder Most Foul?

_Detective Inspector Addison Hart looked over the sea of reporters and inwardly sighed with relief that it was Detective Sergeant Sally Donovan who was handling the press and their questions and not her. Dealing with the press was a tedious job and she hated it with a passion. Addison shared a weary look with Lestrade as Donovan tried to keep order and tried not to roll her eyes as the reporters all shouted questions at once._

 _Three people dead after ingesting the same poison. It had turned into a media circus._

"-preliminary investigations suggest that this was suicide. We can confirm that this apparent suicide closely resembles those of Sir Jeffery Paterson and James Phillimore. In light of this, these incidents are now being treated as linked and the investigation is on-going but Detective Inspector Lestrade will take questions now."

Lestrade nodded quickly at Donovan before taking a question from a reporter in the front row, "Detective Inspector, how can suicides be linked?"

"Well, they all took the same poison. They were all found I places they had no reason to be," Lestrade explained, leaning forward "none of them had shown any prior intentions…"

The same reporter shook his head, "But you can't have serial suicides," he interrupted, frowning slightly at the Inspector.

"Apparently you can."

Another reporter put his hand up and spoke before Donovan could say anything, "These three people, there's nothing that links them?"

Addison could see that Lestrade was already getting agitated and met Donovan's eyes quickly "There's no link we've found yet but…we're looking for it. There has to be one."

Text message alerts echoed around the room and everyone looked down at their phones, feeling her own vibrate, Addison tried to keep her face expressionless as she looked at the message, " _How can you work with these people?"_

"If you've all got texts, please ignore them!" Donovan asked, her tone indicating she wasn't happy as she slammed her phone down on the desk.

"It just says 'Wrong.'"

"Yeah well, just ignore that," Donovan replied trying to keep her temper in check, "if there are no more questions for Detective Inspector Lestrade, I'm going to bring this session to an end."

As the reporters all muttered amongst themselves, Lestrade looked at Addison pleadingly and she gave him a shrug: she couldn't do anything about the texts, she certainly couldn't stop Sherlock from sending them. God knows how many times she had asked him to stop riling up Scotland Yard's police force.

"If they're suicides, what are you investigating?"

Lestrade looked ready to call it a day and Addison felt sorry for him, this had been a hard few months for him as the Chief Inspector had put Lestrade in charge, "As I say, these suicides are clearly linked. Um…it's a….it's an _unusual_ situation but we've got our best people investigating."

Everyone's phone went off again and Addison let out a quick exhale of amusement as her screen lit up, " _I hope he doesn't mean Andersson."_

"Says wrong again?" the reporter asked raising a confused eyebrow.

Donovan shared an exasperated look with Lestrade before clearing her throat, "One more question."

A female reporter with glasses, stuck her hand up immediately, beating everyone else to it "Is there any chance that these are murders?" she asked curiously, "And if they are, is this the work of a serial killer?"

"I…I know that you'd like writing about these, but these deaths do appear to be suicides," Lestrade answered curtly, "we know the difference, the poison was clearly self-administered."

"Yes but if they are murders," the female reporter continued, refusing to give up on her angle, "how do people keep themselves safe?"

Lestrade seemed to grow tired "Well, don't commit suicide," he replied irritably before Donovan groaned quietly and covered her mouth.

" _Daily mail_ ," she whispered and closed her eyes while she shook her head at his answer.

Trying to make his answer better, Lestrade sighed and leaned forward on the desk "Obviously, this is a frightening time for people, but all anyone has to do is exercise reasonable precautions. We are all as safe as we want to be."

Once again, the phones went off and Addison avoided looking at hers: a smiling 'police-officer' wasn't the best photo to be put in the papers, although it would probably amuse Sherlock. Giving her a look, Lestrade stood up and thanked the reporters for coming and Addison followed him and Donovan out of the hall and ran a hand through her hair as the three of them waited on the elevator.

"You've got to stop him doing that," Donovan growled as she paced in front of them with her hands on her hips, "he's making us look like idiots."

"If you can tell me how he does it, I'll stop him."

"Can't you say something to him?" Donovan directed at Addison, "He'd listen to you."

Smiling weakly, Addison shook her head, "Trust me, he wouldn't," she glanced down at her phone again and looked over the message, "you know what he's like…"

 _"_ _Need to speak to you. Urgent. Now – SH."_

"Never mind Sherlock, any new ideas about the case?" Lestrade asked, pushing the button then sighing, "This is one big bloody headache."

Donovan leaned against the wall and shook her head "We've been over the case files so many times we know them off by heart," she said indicating to Addison and herself, "I think we should take a break and start fresh tomorrow. We've all been going non-stop since this started."

"Sounds good to me," Addison said trying not to yawn, "I feel like I haven't slept in weeks."

Lestrade sighed, "Well, as much as I would like to agree with you ladies, we sadly need to get back to work and crack this case of the Chief Inspector's gonna have my head."

Donovan and Addison shared an annoyed look but followed Lestrade into the elevator and pressed the button down to the basement to get the car. Addison closed her eyes while she sat in the back and leant against her hand, tuning out Donovan and Lestrade in the front but she felt like it had only been five minutes before they had arrived back at New Scotland Yard.

Almost in a daze, she made it back to her desk and reluctantly opened the case files on Jeffery Paterson and James Phillimore and tried to force her brain to work. "Here, thought you could use this," Addison looked up to see Donovan in front of her and holding out a cup of coffee, "it's gonna be a long night."

"My favorite kind," Addison replied sarcastically, taking a grateful long sip of her coffee, "thanks Sally."

"No problem, maybe you should talk to the freak," Donovan added in a low voice "help us solve this quicker as much as it _pains_ me to admit it."

Turning back to her work, Addison read over several reports before her train of thought was stopped by her phone going off. Picking it up, she smiled slightly when she seen that it was Sherlock and wondered why he was calling. He usually just texted.

"Do I need to read out the definitions of 'urgent' and 'now'?" Sherlock muttered, sounding slightly out of breath and also annoyed at her "I texted you ages ago."

Addison frowned as she read over statements from friends and families, "I'm at work Sherlock," she said calmly "I can't just leave for one of your ' _emergencies_ '-"

"Why are you saying it like that? This could be an emergency, how do you know it's not?"

Glancing around, Addison made sure no one was paying attention to her "Last time it was because you needed a cup of tea and Mrs. Hudson wasn't in. How is _that_ an emergency?"

"I'll give you that one," Sherlock admitted grudgingly "I guess my situation isn't a _real_ emergency."

Addison couldn't help but snort at his comment, "Is the great Sherlock Holmes admitting that he was wrong? I should really have this phone call recorded."

"Sarcasm does not suit not, Miss Hart," Sherlock muttered but she could hear the amused undertone, "I presume that Donovan wasn't happy about my texts?"

Addison glanced over at Donovan who was at her desk, angrily writing a report, "She was furious that made a mockery of us in front of the reporters," she tried not to smile "even asked me to get you to stop."

"And will you?"

"Will it do any good?"

She heard him chuckle, "I knew there was a reason I kept you around. You would have been tolerable company at the morgue."

"Why are you at the morgue?"

"Checking out an alibi."

Addison rolled her eyes, "Of course, I should have realized," she frowned when she heard someone else's voice and then guessed that it was Molly, Sherlock's fan girl.

 _"_ _So bad day was it?"_

Biting her cheek to stop her laughing at the obvious attempt at flirting, Addison allowed herself a moment of wickedness and listened in. "I need to know what bruises form in the next twenty minutes," Sherlock said curtly, ignoring Molly's previous comment, "a man's alibi depends on it. Text me."

"Listen I was wondering… maybe later… when you're finished of course-"

"You're wearing lipstick," Addison couldn't help but snort at Sherlock's curious tone and caused other police officers to look at her surprised "you weren't wearing lipstick before."

"I… uh… I _refreshed_ it a bit."

"Right… sorry you were saying?"

"I was wondering if you'd like to have coffee."

"Black, two sugars, I'll be upstairs," Addison stifled another laugh and shook her head as she heard Sherlock start walking up stairs, "now, where were we?"

"You can be quite stupid at times," Addison muttered, pushing her brown hair out of her face before taking a large gulp of coffee, "for someone who is meant to be the smart one."

"I _am_ the smart one," Sherlock snapped and then huffed "I thought you were supposed to be at work?"

"I _am_ at work," Addison looked up to see Lestrade heading her way, "I better go, have fun at the morgue."

"Drop by Baker Street tomorrow, I need to talk to you."

"See you then."


	2. An Introduction

Addison tapped her foot and hummed under her breath as she waited outside 221B Baker Street for Sherlock to arrive. It had been late when she managed to finally get back to her flat and catch a few hours' sleep before she was up again, showered and dressed to find out what Sherlock wanted to talk about.

Glancing up and down the street, Addison caught sight of a man leaning heavily on a walking stick coming her way, giving him a small smile, she looked the other way but was surprised when he came to a stop beside her.

"I take it he's not in."

Addison frowned slightly at the man, "I'm sorry, do you mean Sherlock Holmes?" she asked curiously, looking him over again.

"Tall, strange and knows your life story with one look?" the man chuckled and Addison couldn't help but smile, "yes, I mean Sherlock Holmes."

"I take it you're here to enlist his services?" Addison just hoped Sherlock wouldn't be his usual arrogant self with this one, he seemed nice "Just to warn you, don't take what he says to heart. He can be brash but you can easily ignore it. I know I do."

The man shook his head, "Actually, he offered to flat-share with me," he indicated to the building, "this is me seeing it for the first time."

He looked confused as Addison stared at him with widened eyes, "Is something the matter?" he asked slightly uncomfortably as Addison remained still.

"Sherlock… asked you to move in with him?" Addison repeated and then smiled, "He actually _asked_ you?"

"I'm sorry, who are you?"

Shaking her head, Addison offered him her hand, "Sorry, I'm Addison Hart – a friend of Sherlock's."

"John Watson, pleased to meet your acquaintance," John shook her hand and gave her a small smile.

Addison still couldn't believe that this man was going to be living with Sherlock and actually felt a little sorry for him: _he didn't know what he was in for_. "Just to warn you… Sherlock can be a little, strange at first but you'll get used to it."

"Strange… how strange are we talking here?"

"He has a skull that he occasionally talks to… and likes to experiment with body parts," Addison added with a shudder remembering the tongue that had been in the bathroom sink when she first came by to see his flat, "he also will just walk out without a moments warning and come back days later."

John looked taken aback and rubbed the back of his neck, "I wasn't quite expecting that," he murmured, thinking over her words before he frowned, "hang on a minute, did you say a _skull_?"

"Don't worry, it's his friend most days. Although it can get a bit tense when they argue," Addison glanced over John's shoulder and seen a taxi pull up behind them and she smiled as the man in question stepped out and looked over at them both. "Here he is now," she said, rolling her eyes "late as always."

"Hello," Sherlock said offhandedly as he paid his taxi fare through the window.

John turned at the sound of voice and nodded politely, "Ah, Mr. Holmes."

"Sherlock, please," he replied, shaking John's hand as he came to stand next to them, "I see you've already met Miss Addison Hart."

"Well, well, never thought I would see the day you would willingly have a room-mate," she said teasingly, folding her arms, "does he know what he's walking into?"

"Now, now, play nice Addison."

"We only met yesterday, so no," John admitted and then looked up at the building "well, this is a prime spot. Must be expensive."

Sherlock stood with his hands behind his back as he surveyed the street, "Oh, Mrs. Hudson, the landlady, she's given me a special deal. Owes me a favor."

"A favor?"

Addison watched as Sherlock stepped forward with a blank expression on his face, as he usually did when he told this story. "Few years back, her husband got himself sentenced to death in Florida," he said quietly, "I was able to help out."

"Sorry, you stopped her husband being executed?" John asked, sounding slightly impressed.

"Oh no, I _ensured_ it."

Addison bit back a smile at John's shocked look as Sherlock knocked on the door and moments later, Mrs. Hudson stood in front of them beaming when she seen who it was. "Sherlock!" Mrs. Hudson said affectionately as she hugged him close, "And you've brought Addie with you, how lovely!"

"It's good to see you again, Mrs. Hudson," Addison said happily, allowing the other woman to hug her tightly as well, "sorry I haven't been around much."

"That's alright dear, you've been kept busy with that job of yours."

Sherlock indicated to John, who had been waiting patiently in silence to be introduced "Mrs. Hudson, Dr. John Watson."

"Hello, come in," Mrs. Hudson said kindly, stepping back to let them pass her into the hall, "why don't I let you show your little friend around Sherlock?"

"Sounds like a plan," Sherlock said quickly and made for the stairs, "Shall we?" he glanced over his shoulder at John as he began to ascend the stairs.

Addison began to follow and heard John sigh behind her, "There would have to be bloody stairs," he muttered, his stick making a loud click each time it touched the ground.

Sherlock waited until they were both on the landing before he opened the door to the flat and strolled inside. Addison refrained from sighing out loud when she seen still unpacked boxes littering the floor and the dusty bookcase now filled with dusty books that had been shoved in haphazardly.

"Well, this could be very nice," John said quietly, looking slowly around the living room before walking towards the kitchen, "very nice indeed."

"Yes, yes I think so," Sherlock shot a smug look at Addison while she rolled her eyes at him, "my thoughts precisely, so I went straight ahead and moved in-"

"-soon as we get all this rubbish cleaned out."

Both men stopped talking over each other and John's eyes widened at Sherlock's while the other man simply looked taken aback. Addison sat down on the desk chair and smiled widely at Sherlock who avoided eye contact with her while he headed over and made an attempt to make his desk look tidier.

"So this is all…" John looked around the messy living room with new eyes and looked embarrassed.

Sherlock cleared his throat, "Well, obviously I can, um, straighten things up a bit."

"You'd need a skip for that, Sherlock," Addison said sweetly, grinning when he shot her a frown and stabbed a knife into the mantelpiece, "as most of what you own is junk."

John paused for a minute, his eyes moving along from the knife to another strange object on the mantelpiece, "That's the skull then, I take it," he said quietly, glancing at Addison.

"Indeed it is."

Sherlock's frown deepened, "Friend of mine," he muttered then put his hands in his pockets and thought for a moment, "well, I say friend…"

"Look forward to restless nights hearing him argue with it," Addison whispered to John, who was still stunned as he looked at the skull, "I don't envy you."

"Yeah thanks for that."

Before Sherlock could say anything, Mrs. Hudson entered the room, her heels clicking on the floor "What do you think then, Dr. Watson?" she asked and then smiled a little at him, "there's another bedroom upstairs, if you'll be needing two bedrooms that is…"

Addison shared a smile with Sherlock as he removed his scarf and coat: Mrs. Hudson could be a fine source of entertainment sometimes as John would learn in time if he chose to move in. "Of course we'll be needing two," he said dryly, standing to attention with his hands clasped behind his back.

"Oh, don't worry. There's all sorts around here," Mrs. Hudson said quickly and then pointed to the wall behind her, "Mrs. Turner next door's got married ones."

Addison couldn't help a little snigger as she looked up at the baffled John Watson, "We're all friends here, Dr. Watson. You don't need to worry about being judged."

While John tried to compose himself, Mrs. Hudson walked over to the kitchen and let out an exasperated sigh, "Oh Sherlock," she said, shaking her head at the man who looked up at the mention of his name, "the mess you've made."

Addison crossed her legs and glanced at her phone while John made himself comfortable on the armchair and Sherlock began to finally unpack some of his belongings, she frowned a little at a missed phone-call she had from a private number and seen that she had a voice-mail. She couldn't help but wonder who phoned her as she rarely gave her number out and kept this one as private as she could, with a lot of help from Mycroft.

"Excuse me, I've got to make a phone-call," Addison said quickly, standing up and putting her bag down, "I won't be long."

"I hope it's not work," Sherlock said quickly, glancing up and his eyes narrowed as he looked over her "or something worse…"

Addison frowned, "You stop doing that for a start," she said, pointing a finger at Sherlock, "you promised not to analyze me anymore."

"And you promised to tell me when something was wrong."

Out of the corner of her eye, Addison could see John watching their exchange with interest and sighed as she held out her phone, "I have a voice-mail and I'm going to step outside and listen to it, nothing's wrong, I _promise_. Is that alright with you?"

"Don't take too long, I still need to talk to you."

Addison stepped out and heard John and Sherlock conversing as she held up her phone and accessed her voice-mails. Holding it up to her phone, she listened for a moment and then frowned when she only heard the sounds of traffic and people talking. Had someone phoned her by sheer accident and left the phone in their pocket while it recorded the world going by?

Highly unlikely but she didn't know what else it could be.

Stepping back in, she seen Sherlock standing by his laptop and looking smug while John simply looked shocked. "Everything okay?" Sherlock asked, his eyes flickering over to Addison and the triumphant look fading as he did.

"Think they got the wrong number," Addison said honestly, putting her phone away "just heard traffic. There wasn't really a message left."

Mrs. Hudson came out of the slightly tidier kitchen with the latest newspaper in her hands and Addison cringed inwardly when she seen a picture of her, Lestrade and Donovan on the front, "What about these suicides then, Addison? Have you figured out why they're happening yet?"

"Not yet, Mrs. Hudson," Addison sighed, her head beginning to hurt at the mere thought of her current case, "it's a tricky one."

John raised an eyebrow at her, "That's you on the cover," he said, "are you a police officer?"

"Detective Inspector Hart, at your service," Addison said, smiling a little at him, "trying to solve these three suicides along with my fellow officers."

"Four."

Addison turned to Sherlock with an arched eyebrow and she seem him looking intently out of the window, "What do you mean four?" she asked.

"There's been a fourth. And there's something different this time," he said, glancing over to her and indicating outside. Coming over to stand next to him, Addison seen the police car outside and felt the adrenaline start to run through her: something strange must have come up if Lestrade had come straight to Sherlock.

Hearing the sound of someone running up the stairs, Addison looked behind her to see Lestrade enter the room, slightly out of breath. "Where?" Sherlock asked immediately.

"Brixton, Lauriston Gardens," Lestrade answered before giving Addison a small nod, "should have guessed you'd be here."

Sherlock put his hands in his pockets and gave Lestrade a serious look, "What's new about this one? You wouldn't have come to get me if it wasn't something different."

"You know how they never leave notes?"

"Yeah."

"This one did. Will you come?"

Sherlock thought for a moment, "Who's on Forensics?"

"It's Anderson."

Making a face, Sherlock looked annoyed "Anderson won't work with me."

"He probably would if you didn't constantly insult him and being such an arse," Addison pointed out, "do you really need an assistant?"

Sherlock sighed, "I do really _need_ an assistant, you know that."

"We'll sort that out when we get there, Addie can do it if you need one so bad," Lestrade said, shooting her an apologetic look, "Will you come?"

"Not in a police car, I'll be right behind."

Lestrade looked relieved and nodded, "Thank you. You coming with him or me?" he directed the question at Addison who was already picking up her bag and doing up her coat.

"I'll come with you," Addison seen the slight annoyance in Sherlock's eyes and smiled at him, "I'll see you there. Nice to meet you Dr. Watson, I'll come see you another time Mrs. Hudson."

"Goodbye dear, keep safe," Mrs. Hudson said, looking slightly worried about her while John gave her a friendly wave.

Heading downstairs to the car, Addison glanced at Lestrade, "Let me guess the others don't know he's coming?" she asked as he held open the front door.

"No, they're not going to like it but I'm desperate to get some answers," Lestrade said tiredly as they got in the back of the police car and it drove off, "and right now Sherlock's the man to get them for me."

Addison smiled and patted his arm, "Don't let him hear you saying that. He's got a big enough head already."


	3. A Pink Mystery

"Hello, freak!"

Addison looked up and seen Donovan glaring over her shoulder and turned slightly to see Sherlock and surprisingly John approach them. She had been wondering when he would get here as she and Lestrade had left Baker Street a while ago. Folding her arms, she nudged Donovan slightly, "Be nice, he's here to help," she whispered as they got closer.

"His helps not wanted," Donovan muttered, pushing her hair back from her face as the wind picked up "we don't _need_ him."

Sherlock nodded at Addison before returning Donovan's glare with one of his own, "I'm here to see Detective Inspector Lestrade and Hart," he told her, giving a small smirk.

"Why?" Donovan asked, clearly trying to annoy him as she put one hand almost possessively on the police tape surrounding the area.

"I was invited."

"Why?"

Sherlock put his hands in his pocket again and gave her a mock look of thought, "I _think_ he wants me to take a look," he said sarcastically while Addison rolled her eyes at the both of them: it was like dealing with children some days.

"Well, you know what I think, don't you?"

"Can we not do this right now?" Addison said wearily, seeing Sherlock straighten up and his eyes flickering over Donovan, "Lestrade is inside, Sherlock, I'll take you both-"

"I always know what you're thinking, Sally," Sherlock said, interrupting Addison and she threw her hands up in despair as he pulled up the police tape and slipped underneath it, "I even know you didn't make it home last night."

Addison seen Donovan's eyes widen almost guiltily and she felt curious as to what Sherlock was getting at, "I don't…" Donovan began to say before she turned to John who was about to go under the police tape as well and held up a hand to stop him, "Who's this?"

"Colleague of mine, Dr. Watson. Dr. Watson, Sergeant Sally Donovan. _Old_ friend."

"I can vouch for him, he's okay," Addison added as Donovan let out a exhale of amusement, "nice to see you again, John."

"Likewise," John replied, looking a little uncomfortable at the situation he was in.

"A colleague?" Donovan asked mockingly, "How do _you_ get a colleague? Did he follow you home?" she added, glancing back at John.

"Would it be better if I just waited-"

Sherlock shook his head at John, "No," he answered and held up the police tape high for him to go under.

"Better tell them the freak's arrived," Donovan muttered to Addison, who shook her head and raised the radio to her lips.

"Sherlock's here. Bringing him in."

Leading the two men to the house, Addison noticed Sherlock glancing about and she slowed down so she was walking beside him. "Try not to wind her up so much," she whispered, "it's me who gets it when you disappear."

"I'll try."

Anderson came out of the house removing a pair of gloves while his eyes were fixed on Sherlock, "Try _really_ hard," Addison said out of the corner of her mouth.

Sherlock gave her a quick nod before rolling his eyes as Andersson came towards him, not looking happy at all in the present company. "Ah, Andersson," Sherlock said in a bored tone, "here we are again."

Knowing Lestrade wouldn't be happy if they started shouting, she came to stand beside John who gave her a small smile before their eyes turned back to the two scowling men. "It's a crime scene, I don't want it contaminated. Are we clear on that?" Andersson snapped, straightening up as he looked at Sherlock seriously.

"Quite. Clear," Sherlock replied sarcastically before he raised an eyebrow "and is your wife away for long?"

John looked at Sherlock curiously while Addison recognized the smug look in his eyes and knew he was going to reveal something intimate about Anderson…and probably Donovan who he glanced at after speaking.

"Oh don't pretend you worked that out. Someone obviously told you that."

"Your deodorant told me that."

Anderson looked bewildered at the other man, "My deodorant?" he repeated, clearly stupefied by Sherlock's comment.

"It's for men…" Sherlock responded, widening his eyes a little.

Frowning Anderson shook his head, "Well of course it's for men. I'm wearing it!"

"So's Sergeant Donovan."

Anderson turned to Donovan straight away and judging by the shocked look on her face: what Sherlock had said was true. "You and… Anderson?" Addison asked in disbelief, "Jesus, 'Sal, he's married!"

Sniffing slightly, Sherlock looked immensely smug as he watched Anderson squirm "Ooh…I think your deodorant just vaporized. May I go in?"

"Now look!" Anderson said lowering his voice and taking a step closer to the detective "Whatever you're trying to imply…"

"I'm not implying anything," Sherlock interrupted walking by Anderson into the house, with an amused John and Addison following him, "I'm sure Sally came round for a nice little chat and just happened to stay over." He stopped in the doorway and spun on his heel to look at Donovan who glared at him, "And I assume she scrubbed your floors, going by the state of her knees," he glanced at Addison and raised an eyebrow, "Lestrade inside, I take it?"

"Top floor," Addison said, still trying to process this new information, "he's waiting for you."

"Splendid. Are you coming up?"

Addison shook her head, "I have things to do at the office. I'll see you tomorrow maybe. It was nice to see you again, Dr. Watson," she added as John passed her to follow Sherlock into the house.

"Please, call me John, Detective Inspector."

"Well, in that case call me Addison."

Sherlock rolled his eyes, "You two can discuss this over coffee sometime where I do not need to hear it. I have other things to concentrate on rather than the both of you bonding."

Addison shook her head as the two men disappeared inside with Anderson following behind them looking incredibly embarrassed and averted meeting Donovan's eyes.

"So, when were you going to tell me about you and Anderson?" Addison asked her as they walked back to the police car, Donovan shot her a glare and Addison bumped her shoulder playfully, "Oh, come on 'Sal, I'm the only friend you have practically."

"It's not like I'm in love with him or anything," Donovan muttered, leaning against the car and rubbing her head, "it was just sex. Which will now obviously never happen again now that the freak knows."

Addison stood beside her and folded her arms, trying to keep warm against the cold wind "I'll make sure he doesn't tell anyone," she said sympathetically, "although I have to admit, I was kind of shocked to hear him say it."

"Thanks, Addie," Donovan gave her a half-smile before sighing, "it's just with this job… you never get a chance to meet someone. You're tied to the job and relationships and a social life will always come second. I guess I just didn't want to be lonely for one night and Anderson was there."

Sighing as well, Addison nodded "Oh I know that, I haven't been in a relationship in quite some time now."

 _The job has nothing to do with your being single…_

Ignoring the voice in her head, Addison glanced up at the building and wondered if Sherlock was making any headway in the case, "Well, I'm going to head back and start a case file on Jennifer Wilson, try and contact the family," she said although all she wanted to do was crawl under her covers and sleep for a week, "let me know if anything comes up."

"No problem, I'll try not to kill the freak."

* * *

It was a couple of hours later when Lestrade and Donovan finally joined Addison and she already had a brief outline on who Jennifer Wilson was but to her annoyance, Sherlock had already revealed that she was unhappily married and had a string of affairs behind her.

"Could have phoned and let me know," she muttered, cursing when she seen that her coffee had gone cold, "would have saved me a lot of phone calls."

Lestrade smiled a little and came to stand by her desk, "You know as well as I do, there's no telling what he's going to come up with," he read over the file and nodded, "you did good work, Addison. Plus, you found out who Rachel was."

"Well, I highly doubted she was writing revenge in German," Addison reluctantly smiled, "especially as she failed that subject in school."

"Put Anderson's nose right out of joint at the crime scene," Lestrade chuckled but soon grew somber as his eyes fell on the picture of Jennifer Wilson when she was alive, "now we just need to figure out why she wrote 'Rachel' on the floor using her finger."

Addison winced "It must mean something if she did that. It would hurt."

"Sherlock also said we need to find her case," Lestrade added, folding his arms, "and knowing him, he'll go out and find it – desperate to beat us to it."

"I think you're right."

Lestrade glanced at his watch and sighed, "The wife's gonna kill me for staying this late," he muttered and rubbed his face, "I think we should call it a night and start again in the morning, there's nothing else that we can do tonight."

"Have I ever told you I loved you?" Addison said smiling at him and stretching out, she couldn't wait to go to her bed.

He chuckled and waited for her while she got her coat and bag, "Don't let anyone hear you saying that," Lestrade joked as he held the door open, "they'll be spreading rumors about us."

Addison shook her head "I should be so lucky," she said snorting a little as they walked to the front door.

Hearing her phone go off, Addison glanced down and seen that she had a text from Sherlock.

 _Baker Street. As soon as you can – SH._

Before she could text back a reply, her phone screen went dark and it died. Addison swore under her breath as she put it in her bag.

"Need a lift anywhere?" Lestrade asked, unlocking his car and glancing over to her.

Addison sighed and rubbed her head. What did Sherlock have against her sleeping? "Mind dropping me off at Baker Street? Sherlock wants to talk to me."

"If he mentions the case – let me know," Lestrade said seriously "whoever's doing these murders is dangerous and Sherlock can't do this alone."

"I will, I promise."

After Lestrade dropped her off and they said goodnight, Addison quietly rapped the knocker against the door and smiled when Mrs. Hudson let her in with her dressing gown tight around her. "Oh, Addie. Sherlock told me you'd be here soon," she rolled her eyes as the younger woman passed her, "you're looking tired, dear, doing too much at that job of yours."

"It's been a stressful few months for everybody, Mrs. Hudson," Addison glanced towards the stairs, "I take it they're both back?"

"Sherlock is but John isn't back yet," Mrs. Hudson said, "I'll let you go up to him, he was shouting for me earlier but I just ignored him. I don't think he realizes I am his landlady not his house-keeper."

When Addison finally reached Sherlock's door, she frowned when she seen him deep in thought, lying on the couch that had been finally cleared of boxes. "Well, I'm here…" she said, he opened his eyes slowly at hearing her voice, "care to tell me what was so urgent?"

"Didn't you get my other text?" Sherlock frowned as he looked at her empty hands, "I asked you to get me nicotine patches."

Addison stiffened and her eyes narrowed at the man as he picked up his phone and quickly texted someone, "Sherlock… you better be kidding or I am going to _severely_ hurt you."

"I guess three patches is just going to have to do," Sherlock sighed and closed his eyes again, "can I borrow your phone?"

"No."

"Why not?"

Addison pinched the bridge of her nose before pushing Sherlock's feet over, much to his distaste, and sat at the end of the couch, "It died before I got here."

Leaning back into the couch, Addison realized just how tired she was when she closed her eyes and wished she was back home and in her bed. Just thinking of tomorrow made her tired and she was dreading having to deal with the press once news of another murder/suicide happening.

"When was the last time you slept? You look awful."

Snorting, Addison opened her eyes and turned her head to look at Sherlock who had sat up to study her features better, "You sure know how to make a girl feel special," she rubbed her eyes and sighed "ever since this case started I've barely slept."

"There was another reason why I needed to speak to you," Sherlock said, his voice soft "I know around this time of year… that you'll obviously think of-"

He stopped talking and looked up, "Well, it's about time," he said leaning back on the couch, the soft tone completely gone, "I texted you ages ago."

Addison glanced sideways and smiled at John, "You look almost as tired as I am," she said.

John seemed to know he had interrupted a conversation and looked at Addison apologetically before peering at Sherlock's wrist where one of the nicotine patches were, "What's that for?"

"Patches helps me think," Sherlock said, rolling up his sleeve to reveal the other two, "Impossible to sustain a smoking habit in London these days."

"I think your brain will be thankful," Addison commented, rubbing her eyes tiredly.

"Good news for people who like to breathe," John said sarcastically as he made his way to the chair in the corner, limping slightly.

Sherlock scoffed at John's comment, "Urggh, breathing. Breathing's boring."

Yawning widely, John's eyes narrowed at Sherlock's arm, "So care to explain why you have _three_ patches?"

"It's a three patch problem."

Addison rolled her eyes, "So he says."

John nodded slowly and then looked at Sherlock expectantly, "Well?" when he didn't answer, John sighed, "You asked me to come. I'm assuming that it's important."

"Oh yeah, of course," Sherlock said, suddenly opening his eyes and looking at him, "Can I borrow your phone?"

"My phone?"

"Don't wanna use mine. Always a chance it'll be recognized. It's on the website."

"Mrs. Hudson's got a phone-"

"She's downstairs…I tried shouting but she didn't hear and Addison's has no battery left."

Looking at him in disbelief, Addison shook her head "So you text John and I, make us come all the way here at this time of night, just because you want to use our phones?"

"Well, I didn't know which one of you would arrive first."

"I was on the other side of London," John said through gritted teeth, frowning at Sherlock.

"There was no hurry."

"Unbelievable," Addison whispered and rubbed her head: despite knowing him for most of her life, he could still surprise her with his selfishness.

Once he calmed himself down, John searched through his pocket and got out his phone, "Here," he said handing it to Sherlock who had his eyes closed again, it took a minute for him to get the phone before simply holding it, "So what's this about? The case?"

"Her case…"

"Her case?"

"Her suitcase, yes, obviously," Sherlock commented and looked deep in thought, "the murderer took her suitcase, first big mistake."

Addison frowned slightly, "Lestrade mentioned something about a case… is it important to finding the murderer?"

"I don't see how taking her case is a big mistake?" John said slowly, glancing at Addison who merely shrugged: she was just as confused as he was.

"Don't worry, no one does."

Ignoring them both, Sherlock began muttering to himself "It's no use….there's no other way. We'll have to risk it," he glanced at John quickly, "on my desk there's a number. I want you to send a text."

He held out the phone but John didn't move from where he was standing, "You've brought me here….to send a…. _text_?"

"Text, yes. The number on my desk," Sherlock said impatiently, waving the phone a little. As John took it off him and headed to the desk, he shot Addison a look as if he didn't know why John was annoyed. All she could do was shake her head again.

She looked at John and frowned a little when she seen him glance out of the window nervously, as if picking up on the man's strange behavior, Sherlock raised an eyebrow at him. "What's wrong?"

"Just met a friend of yours…"

"A friend?"

"And here I thought I was your only friend," Addison said sarcastically.

"An enemy."

"Oh, which one?" Addison asked, "He has a lot so you have to be specific."

"Well your arch-enemy," John replied, clearing his throat as he closed the curtains "according to him. Do people have arch-enemies?"

Rolling her eyes, Addison realized that it was Mycroft who John had met and knowing him probably asked him to spy on Sherlock. Something that she still refused to do for him. She preferred not to get caught up in the Holmes brother's drama. At least not anymore.

"Did he offer you money to spy on me?" Sherlock asked John casually.

"Yes."

"Did you take it?"

"No…."

Sherlock sighed, "Pity, we could have split the fee. Think it through next time."

Smiling slightly, John looked at Sherlock, "Who is he?"

"The most dangerous man you've ever met," Sherlock informed him "and not my problem right now. On my desk, the number!"


	4. The Meaning of Rachel

"You have the case…" Addison groaned as the three of them sat around the table where the deceased Jennifer Wilson's case was, "I should have known that _you_ would have found it."

Sherlock made an impatient noise, "Yes, yes, I have the case but don't worry…" he added sarcastically, " _I_ didn't kill her."

"We never said you did," John said quietly, looking at Sherlock curiously with his phone still in his hand.

Raising an eyebrow, Sherlock interlocked his fingers together and glanced at John, "Why not? Given that text I just had you send and the fact I have her case it's a perfectly logical assumption. Addison's known me nearly all my life and she's just had to convince herself I didn't do it."

"Do people usually assume you're the murderer?" John asked him as Addison shot Sherlock a glare and ran a hand through her hair.

"Now and then yes," Sherlock grinned slightly and sat back on the chair with his legs under him and then fixed his stare on the case as if he expected something to happen.

Addison was quiet as she had an inner conflict about phoning Lestrade or not, "So care to tell us where the hell you found this?" she asked him, indicating to the case.

"Yes, I'm curious myself as to how you got it."

Sherlock didn't even look up when he answered simply with "By looking."

"That's usually how people find things but _where_ did you look?"

"The killer must have driven her to Lauriston Gardens," Sherlock said obviously finally breaking his gaze to look at the other two, "he could only keep her case by accident if it was in the car. Nobody could be seen with this case without drawing attention to themselves, particularly a man, which is statistically more likely. So _obviously_ he'd feel compelled to get rid of it, the moment he noticed he still had it, and wouldn't have taken him more than five minutes to realize his mistake."

Addison frowned a little as she thought about what Sherlock had said, "So he would have looked for the nearest place to dump it," she said slowly, "just in case someone hailed a cab. A bag like that isn't easy to forget, especially if the police released a statement that we were looking for it."

"Yes. I checked every backstreet wide enough for a car five minutes from Lauriston Gardens," Sherlock nodded, looking slightly impressed with Addison much to John's amusement, "and anywhere you could dispose of a bulky object without being observed. Took me less than an hour to find the right skip."

Leaning on her hand, Addison smiled softly at Sherlock: he may be irritating at times, but he never failed to impress her with his observations. "You always manage to amaze me," she murmured as he looked at her surprised.

"Pink. You got _all_ that because you realized the case would be _pink_?"

Sherlock broke off eye contact to frown slightly at John, "Well, it had to be pink. Obviously."

"Why didn't I think of that?" John muttered to himself as he looked at the case in question.

"Because you're an idiot," Sherlock waved his hand dismissively as John looked up at him, slightly out-raged, "No, no, no, don't look like that. Practically everyone is."

"Welcome to the club," Addison added sarcastically, rolling her eyes, "So, what was with the cryptic text you had John send?"

Sherlock suddenly looked smug, "I'm getting to that," he pointed to the bag "Now, look. Do you both see what's missing?"

"From the case? How could I?" John asked, still sounding miffed about Sherlock's earlier comment.

Addison shrugged as Sherlock turned to her with widened eyes, "I've barely slept since all this began, I can't make deductions right now."

"Her phone. Where's her mobile phone?" Sherlock asked, shaking his head a little as the other two looked suddenly embarrassed about not noticing that, especially Addison, "There was no phone on the body, there's no phone in that case. We know she had one. That's her number there you just texted," he said, pointing to John's phone in his hand.

John frowned as he too looked down at his phone, "Maybe… she left it at home?" he suggested but Sherlock shook his head.

"She has a string of lovers and she's careful about it," Sherlock said quietly, "she never leaves her phone at home."

Addison nodded "Her phone records are in a different name," she said quietly, "she used her maiden name, not her married name, so her husband wouldn't see all the numbers she's been phoning on the phone records."

"So… why did I just send that text?" John asked suddenly, his eyes narrowing on Sherlock.

"Well, now the question is, where is her phone now?"

"She could have lost it."

"Yes, or?"

Addison suddenly got a chill as she realized why Sherlock had John send that text and sat up in her seat, looking at the phone uneasily as John came to the same realization. "The murderer…" he said slowly, "you think the murderer has the phone?"

"She left the phone in her case…." Addison said slowly, "and he didn't know until after he killed her."

Sherlock shrugged, "The balance of probability is the murderer has her phone."

"Did I just text a murderer?" John's voice was slightly raised as he held his stick tightly in his hand "What good will that do?"

"No good really," Addison said quietly, "now the murderer has your phone number."

Just as John opened his mouth to reply, the mobile phone lit up and began to ring loudly, echoing in the now silent flat. A smirk grew on Sherlock's face as all three adults gaze was locked onto John's phone. "A few hours after his last victim, and now he receives a text that can only be from her."

"And you're sure it's him?" Addison asked quietly, "It's not one of her lovers asking why she hasn't arrived yet?"

Sherlock nodded, "If somebody had just found that phone they'd ignore a text like that but the murderer…" the phone stopped ringing and Sherlock triumphantly slammed the case shut and stood up, "… would panic!"

"We need to phone Lestrade," Addison began to say as Sherlock pulled on his jacket, "Let him know-"

"That is the last thing we need to do," Sherlock frowned at Addison, "we don't need the police."

John sighed, "Sherlock we _need_ to talk to the police."

"You can't do this on your own," Addison snapped, frowning back at Sherlock "and I _am_ the police."

"Four people are dead, there isn't time to talk to the police," Sherlock raised an eyebrow at Addison, "you know, that's good enough."

John gave him a look of disbelief, "So why are you talking to us?" he asked.

"Mrs. Hudson took my skull."

"So I'm basically filling in for your skull?"

"Relax, you're doing fine. Both of you."

Sharing an eye roll with John, Addison shook her head "And you still continue to amaze me," she said sarcastically sitting back in the seat and covering her eyes, "if you think I'm going off on a wild goose chase this time of night then you're not as intelligent as you claim to be."

"Fine, stay here and sleep," Sherlock rolled his eyes as he wrapped his scarf around his neck, "just so you know, I now have zero faith in the police force-"

"I swear to _God_ , Sherlock…!" Addison growled threateningly.

Smiling a little, Sherlock then turned to John and arched an eyebrow, "Well?"

"Well, what?" John muttered, still looking confused and annoyed about it.

"Well, you could just sit here and be boring like Addison," she shot him a dirty look when he mentioned her name.

John looked at Sherlock surprised, "What, you want me to come with you?"

"I like company when I go out, and I think better when I talk aloud," Sherlock said casually "the skull just attracts attention, so…"

John tried not to smile and Addison couldn't stop one from growing on her face at Sherlock's comment – aside from the smugness and annoying 'I'm-always-right' attitude, he could be good company and make her laugh.

Addison noticed that John remained seated and she looked at him while resting her head on her hand, "I won't be offended if you want to run around London with Sherlock," she joked.

"It's not that… it's Sergeant Donovan."

The amused look faded from Sherlock's face at the mention of Sally and he rolled his eyes, "What about her?"

"She said…" John was silent as he thought over his words carefully, "you get off on this. You enjoy it."

Sherlock looked up at Addison and she gave him a small smile: knowing that this was a sensitive subject for him and even though he would never admit it, he needed to know that Addison didn't think that about him.

"And I said 'dangerous' and here you are," Sherlock's smug smile was back on his face and he gave Addison a wink before turning to leave, "make yourself at home, Addison. We shouldn't be long."

"Yeah, I'll just curl up in a box and go to sleep shall I?" Addison said, only half-joking as she dreaded to think what state Sherlock's room was in, "I'll see you later John."

John made a face as he grabbed his stick, "Damn it!" he cursed and quickly followed Sherlock out of the apartment.

Snorting at him, Addison waited until the door shut behind him before leaning back in the seat and closing her eyes: apart from the faint sound of Mrs. Hudson's television, it was complete silence in the flat and she thanked god for the chance to sleep.

It had only been a couple of hours before there was a loud banging noise and Addison jumped awake, her heart beating incredibly fast as she tried to get her bearings. At the sound of footsteps on the stairs, she frowned and glanced quickly at the case and then nervously put a hand on her gun on its holster. Had the murderer managed to trace John's phone?

"Ah, Addison. Thought you might be here."

Hearing Lestrade's voice, Addison sighed and ran a hand through her hair as she seen him with a team of police officers, "Greg, I was _just_ about to call you," she said quickly, glancing again at the case, "Sherlock found the case."

"Yeah, a part of me knew he would," Lestrade said sarcastically and then indicated for the other officers to come in, "right, in you come. Start searching."

"Thought you were going home to sleep?" Sally asked sarcastically with a raised eyebrow as she put on a pair of gloves.

"You wanted to be a part of this?"

"Damn right I do."

Addison frowned as the team of police officers came in, she shook her head as Andersson eagerly headed towards the kitchen and began to turn the already upside down flat, even more upside down and walked over to Lestrade. "What the hell is going on? What are they looking for?"

"Drugs," Lestrade said simply, raising an eyebrow, "This is a bust, Detective Inspector Hart. Glad to have you on board."

Addison could only helplessly look on as Lestrade's team continued to search for non-existent drugs for the next hour and she rolled her eyes when Lestrade sat down in Sherlock's chair and seemed amused by the situation, "Sherlock will be furious, you know."

"Well, if he'd play nice so would I," Lestrade said, looking up at her, "we both know he's found that case. He should have told me but he didn't…we also know he's been stealing my badge too."

She heard the front door go and sighed, rubbing her head. "Here we go," she said quietly as footsteps could be heard coming up the stairs.

Bursting in, Sherlock narrowed his eyes at Lestrade as he sat in his chair "What are you doing?" he asked angrily, he glanced up at Addison who shook her head. She didn't know that this was going to happen.

"I don't have _anything_ to do with this," she said honestly and looked down at Lestrade, "the good Detective Inspector surprised me as well."

Lestrade snorted "Well, I knew you would find the case. I'm not stupid."

"You can't just break into my flat!"

"You can't withhold evidence," Lestrade replied firmly "and I _didn't_ break into your flat…"

Sherlock glared at him and indicated to the police officers still searching, "Well, what do you call this then?"

"It's a drugs bust."

Addison felt worried when Sherlock's lips pressed together and his fists clenched, John however laughed out loud and shook his head at Lestrade, "Seriously? This guy, a junkie? Have you met him?"

"John-"

Glancing between them both, Addison knew Sherlock hadn't told John about his past problems and stepped towards John with her hand up, "Mr. Watson, please don't-" she began to say but he just continued talking.

"I'm pretty sure you can search this flat all day and you wouldn't find anything you could call recreational!"

Lowering his voice, Sherlock stepped closer to him, "John, you probably want to shut up now!" he hissed.

"Yeah but come on…." The two men shared a serious look and John's eyes widened a little, "…no."

"What?"

"You?"

"Shut up!" Sherlock shook his head before turning his attention to Lestrade again, "I'm not your sniffer dog!"

Lestrade grinned slightly "No, Anderson's my sniffer dog."

"I'm too tired for this," Addison sighed and sat down on the desk chair and narrowed her eyes at Lestrade, "you thought this would be a good idea Greg?"

"Indeed I did."

"What, I-" Sherlock looked into the kitchen where Anderson stood and he gave the detective a small wave, "Anderson, what are you doing here on a drugs bust?"

Anderson gave him a vindictive smile, "Oh, I _volunteered_."

"They all did. They're not strictly speaking on the drug squad, but they're very keen," Lestrade added.

Addison shook her head, "Children…I am dealing with children," she muttered.

"Are these…. _human_ eyes?" Donovan asked with raised eyebrows as she came to stand next to Anderson with a jar in her hands.

"Put those back!" Sherlock replied exasperatedly.

"They were in the microwave!"

"It's an experiment!"

Lestrade leaned back in the chair and looked at his team, "Keep looking guys…" he looked up at Sherlock who had a face like thunder he was so angry, standing up he raised an eyebrow, "or you could help us properly and I'll stand them down."

"This is childish!"

"Well, I am dealing with a child," Lestrade said sounding annoyed now "Sherlock, this is our case. I'm letting you in but you do not go off on your own. Clear?"

Stopping in his tracks, Sherlock gave Lestrade a furious look, "What, so you set up a pretend drugs bust to bully me?"

"It stops being pretend if they find anything," Lestrade said a little threatening.

"I am _clean_!" he rolled up his sleeve to show the nicotine patch, "I don't even smoke…"

Lestrade chuckled and rolled up his own to reveal a similar patch, "Neither do I. So let's work together."

"Sherlock…" Addison stood up also and put a hand on Sherlock's arm, "Look, just…just let us _help_. I know you don't need it but we might come up with something…" her eyes softened a little bit as his intense gaze shifted onto her, "you know who will hear of this and this sort of thing will become regular. And you don't want that."

He paused for a long time before sighing loudly but giving a nod, "Fine."

Looking relieved, Addison straightened up "We've found Rachel," she said, suddenly remembering that she never told him that.

"Who is she?"

"Jennifer Wilson's only daughter," Lestrade replied but before he could say anything else, Sherlock interrupted him.

"Her daughter?" he frowned as he thought carefully "Why would she write her daughter's name? Why?"

Anderson stopped in his searching and gave Lestrade an incredulous look, "Never mind that, we found the case!" he said pointing to it, "According to _someone_ , the murderer has the case and we found it in the hands of our favorite psychopath."

"I'm not a psychopath, Anderson," Sherlock said quickly, turning his head to glare at the man, "I'm a high-functioning sociopath. Do your research."

Addison tried not to smile at Anderson's stunned face and turned her back so she was only facing Lestrade, Sherlock then looked back at the Detective Inspector "You need to bring Rachel in, you need to question her. I need to question her."

"Sherlock, that….that won't be possible," Addison said quietly, the smile slipping off her face "she's dead."

His eyes lit up at hearing the word 'dead' "Excellent! How and when, why? Is there a connection? There _has_ to be!"

"Well, I doubt it, since she's been dead for fourteen years," Addison said, slightly irked at how excited he had become upon hearing that she was dead, "Technically, she was never alive."

Sherlock looked at her confused and Lestrade cleared his throat, "Rachel was Jennifer Wilson's stillborn daughter. Fourteen years ago."

"Oh that's…" John looked up at Sherlock in surprise at how he sounded genuinely sorry at that news, but rolled his eyes when the other man made an annoyed noise "That's not right. How? Why would she do that? Why?"

Shaking his head, Anderson gave Sherlock a frown, "Why would she think of her daughter in her last moments?" he rolled his eyes "Yup, sociopath, I'm seeing it now."

"She didn't _think_ about her daughter," Sherlock replied in a low tone but there was an edge to his voice, "she scratched her name on the floor with her fingernails. She was dying. It took effort, it would have hurt!"

Addison sighed as he looked at her, "I can't imagine a reason as to why she did that."

John folded his arms and frowned deep in thought, "You said that the victims…all took the poison themselves," he said to Sherlock as he began to pace the room, "that he _makes_ them take it. Well, maybe he…I don't know, talks to them. Maybe he used the death of her daughter somehow."

"Yeah, but that was ages ago. Why would she still be upset?"

There was a sudden silence as everyone looked at Sherlock, stunned by his outburst. As if sensing he had said the wrong thing, he glanced first at Addison and then John. "Not good?"

"Bit not good, yeah," John muttered, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

Sherlock was quiet before he looked at John seriously, "If you were dying," he said determinedly "if you'd been murdered, in your very last few seconds. What would you say?"

"Please, God, let me live."

Looking at the other man skeptically, Sherlock raised an eyebrow, "Use your imagination."

"I don't have too…" John replied seriously.

For the first time Sherlock looked abashed but quickly shook his head, "Yeah, but if you were clever, really clever. Jennifer Wilson running all those lovers, she was clever!"

"So, the name 'Rachel' must have another meaning," Addison said slowly, "she was…."

"She was trying to tell us something!"

Before anyone could say anything, Mrs. Hudson appeared at the door looking exasperated, "Isn't the doorbell working?" she asked, Sherlock ignored her and she shook her head, "Your taxi's here, Sherlock!"

"I didn't order a taxi!" he snapped, "Go away!"

Not taking his comment to heart, Mrs. Hudson tutted as she looked around the even messier flat, "Oh, dear…they're making such a mess," she said to John and Addison, "What are they looking for?"

"It's a drugs bust Mrs. Hudson," John explained while Sherlock walked around in circles with his fingers pressed into his head.

"But they're just for my hip!" Mrs. Hudson hissed, looking worried now, "They're herbal soothers!"

Addison gave her a small smile, "Don't worry Mrs. Hudson, it's not you under scrutiny."

"Well, that's a relief."

"SHUT UP EVERYBODY!" Sherlock suddenly shouted making Addison jump at the noise, "SHUT UP! Don't move, don't speak and don't breathe!" I'm trying to think!" he paused before holding his hand out to the kitchen, "Anderson, face the other way. You're putting me off!"

"W-what? My face is?"

Lestrade however didn't look confused and instead nodded at Sherlock's request, "Everybody quiet and still. Anderson, turn your back."

"Oh for god's sake…!"

Addison turned and glared at the scowling man, "Do what your damn well told and face the other way!" she snapped before looking back at Sherlock who had his eyes closed shut as he thought.

"Come on…think…." He muttered to himself while Mrs. Hudson wrung her hands and took a hesitant step towards him before Addison could stop her.

"What about your taxi?"

"MRS HUDSON!"

Addison opened her mouth to reassure the older woman Sherlock didn't mean it but she just shook her head and left the room, she knew him well, glancing back she was ready to chastise him for how he had behaved when she seen his eyes light up and widen slightly: he had realized something.

"Oh…oh!" he laughed humorlessly to himself, "She was clever. Clever, yes!"

Stepping forward, Addison felt hopeful as she watched her friend "You've figured out why she wrote Rachel, haven't you?"

But Sherlock didn't answer and instead looked over her shoulder at Lestrade and his group, "She's cleverer than you lot and she's dead! Do you see, do you get it?" he asked excitedly, when no one answered he rolled his eyes impatiently, "She didn't _lose_ her phone. She never lost it. She planted it on him. When she got out of the car, she knew that she was going to her death. She left the phone in order to lead us to her killer!"

"Rachel…it's her…." Addison's eyes widened as she too realized the true meaning of the word "… _of course…_ "

Lestrade looked dumbfounded as he looked between them both, "Care to share with the rest of us?" he asked sarcastically, "How did she know?"

"Rachel!" Sherlock repeated as if this would make Lestrade understand too, "Don't you see? Rachel!"

No one answered him and even John looked clueless as they waited for him to continue, "Oh…look at you lot, you're oh so vacant," he said almost mockingly, "Is it nice not being me? It must be _so_ relaxing."

"Sherlock…I'll tell them if you don't," Addison muttered, frowning at him slightly.

He rolled his eyes as if she had spoiled his fun, "Rachel is _not_ a name."

"Then what is it?" John snapped out the question, looking fed up with Sherlock right now.

"John, on the luggage, there's a label…" Sherlock said quickly as he sat down at the laptop, "email address."

As John read out the email address, Lestrade came over to Addison and raised an eyebrow. "I wish sometimes you would just tell us, instead of letting him go on and on."

"Ah, but where's the fun in that," she whispered back and gave him a small smile.


	5. The Hunt Begins

Addison stared at the laptop screen while it searched for the location of Jennifer Wilson's phone. After Sherlock revealing the true meaning to the woman scratching 'Rachel' in the floorboards, they were now impatiently waiting for a location. Sitting beside John, she gave him a tired smile before glancing over at Sherlock talking to Lestrade. He was talking animatedly about how they should handle the case, acting as if this was the most exciting thing in the world but then that's what Sherlock loved about the odd cases: finding the answers.

"He's like a kid on Christmas morning," Addison muttered, shaking her head a little as she looked back at the screen rubbing her temple, "I'll be glad when this nightmare is all over."

John tried to hold back a yawn, "I still can't believe he got me to text a murderer," he said quietly, then glanced at her "he can't track me, can he?"

"I doubt it," Addison ran a hand through her hair and frowned a little at how knotty it had gotten, "but if it helps you sleep I can assign protection."

"Don't tempt me."

The laptop beeped and suddenly a map appeared on the screen and Addison and John leaned forward, wondering where the murderer was… and both were surprised at the location that showed up.

"Baker Street…" Addison frowned and suddenly felt a chill down her back "the murderer's _here_?"

John cleared his throat, "I think I will take that protection, Detective Inspector," he muttered before turning in his chair, "Sherlock, we know where the phone is."

"Where is it?" Sherlock asked quickly, coming over to look at the screen himself.

"Here. It's in 221 Baker Street."

Looking up and staring at nothing in particular, Sherlock's brow furrowed slightly "How can it be here?" he asked himself quietly "How?"

"Maybe he's outside?" Addison said, standing up and heading over to the window, she glanced outside but didn't see anything out of the ordinary.

Lestrade looked thoughtful, "Well, maybe it was in the case when you brought it back and it fell out somewhere."

"What and I didn't notice it?" Sherlock snapped, turning to look at the Detective Inspector, " _Me_? I didn't notice?"

"That can't be the case," John interrupted before an argument started "we texted him and he called back."

Addison seen Lestrade look at her and she nodded, "He's right, Greg. There's no way it was inside this flat the whole time."

"Well, right now it's our best guess. Let me know if you come up with something," Lestrade apologetically told her and turned to his team, "Guys, we're also looking for a mobile somewhere here, belonged to the victim."

Addison looked to Sherlock while the others began to search the flat for the missing phone and seen that he was deep in thought and hardly moving. Looking up at Mrs. Hudson, she noticed a man standing behind her with his eyes fixed on Sherlock, her eyes caught the taxi badge and she shrugged it off, Sherlock probably hired a cab and forgot about it.

"Addie, can I get a minute?" Lestrade asked in a low voice, indicating for her to come closer, "I _need_ this to work, everyone is already judging me for letting Sherlock on this case, tell me honestly… do you think Sherlock can do this?"

"When this gets solved you're going to look like a genius for getting the right help," Addison said comfortingly, patting his arm "and at the end of the day, getting the bad guy is all that counts really. People will focus on that and not the setbacks. So stop worrying and just focus on the case."

Lestrade nodded slowly, "Easier said than done when it comes to Sherlock," he muttered and Addison smiled as he went back to looking for the phone.

"Sherlock, you okay?" John asked, frowning as Sherlock remained motionless.

"What?" Addison sensed that something was wrong when she heard Sherlock's voice and the way he fixated on the cab driver, "Yeah, yeah… I'm fine."

"So, any idea where this phone is now?" Addison asked him, trying to get his attention but failed miserably "Sherlock? Anybody in?" she added waving her hand in front of his eyes.

"Don't know."

John sighed and gave his full attention to the laptop screen again, "I'll try it again, see if that makes a difference."

"Good idea," Sherlock murmured distantly before he headed towards the door.

Addison felt a ripple of annoyance going through her as Sherlock left and shook her head: she'd have to speak to him about just leaving when it suited him, especially on a police case. Helping the others to look, she seen John stand up and head to the window.

"He just got in a cab…" he muttered, phone to his ear as he glanced back at Addison, Lestrade and Donovan, "It's Sherlock. He just drove off in a cab. Should we go after him?"

Addison shared a look with Lestrade while Donovan scoffed and rolled her eyes, "There'd be no point John," she sighed, feeling like everyone in the room was shooting her and Lestrade daggers for wasting their time, "who knows where the hell he's gone."

"Yeah, I told you – he does that," Donovan said angrily, before looking at her fellow police officers "he bloody left _again_. We're wasting our time," she added, turning to stop the team from searching anymore, "time to go home."

John however didn't look ready to give up and hit re-dial on the phone and put it to his ear, "I'm calling the phone but it's ringing out now…" he said to Addison and she frowned: why was he ignoring the phone now?

"And if it's ringing, it's not here," Lestrade said defeated, putting his hands in his pockets while Donovan folded her arms and waited for them to leave.

Addison bit her lip: she couldn't help but feel that the answer was right there in front of her but she couldn't see it. "Maybe we should try the search again?"

"Good idea, I'll refresh the page," John nodded and sat back down in front of the laptop.

"Does it matter?" Donovan came over and shook her head, "Does any of it? He's just a lunatic and he'll _always_ let you both down. And you two are just wasting your time," she added indicating to Addison and Lestrade, "all our time!"

Lestrade gave Addison a searching look, almost asking her permission to stop the search and after a moment's pause she gave a slow nod and he rubbed his face, "Okay everybody, we're done here."

"You all go," Addison murmured quietly as she walked over to Lestrade's side, glancing over his shoulder she saw the annoyed looks on the others faces and knew it was the right call, "I'll stay here and see if anything comes up from the search."

"By yourself?" Lestrade asked her uneasily and she gave him a soft smile.

"I've got John here and if something comes up, something _definite_ , then I'll call you," Addison assured him and patted her side where her gun was, "I'm a big girl Greg, I can look after myself. Don't worry."

Lestrade still didn't look convinced despite her assurances, "It's my job to worry."

Picking up his coat, Addison held it out to him and tilted her head, "C'mon, off you go," she said "surprise your wife by actually going home tonight."

"Why did he do that though?" Lestrade asked out loud, taking his coat off of Addison as John stood up from refreshing the search and looked at them both, "Why did he have to leave?"

Addison folded her arms and shrugged, "You know what he's like," she murmured quietly, "always does things his way."

"Well, don't look at me, you two know him better than I do," John said, smiling faintly.

Lestrade made a face as he put his coat on, "I've known him for five years and no, I don't," he paused before his eyes flickered to Addison, "Addie's the one who's known him all her life."

"And I'm still no closer to figuring out how he thinks," she said with a bittersweet tone, "Sherlock Holmes will remain a mystery to us all."

Before Lestrade turned to leave, John took a step towards him with a curious expression on his face, "So, why do you both put up with him?"

"Because I'm desperate, that's why," Lestrade answered while Addison averted her eyes and kept quiet: she didn't know what words could answer John's question. The team began to file out of the flat down the stairs but Lestrade paused by the door and gave them a final look, "And because Sherlock Holmes is a great man, and I think one day if we're very, _very_ lucky, he might even be a good one."

The flat was quiet once everyone had left and Addison sat down on the black leather seat that was Sherlock's and glanced out the door wondering where he had gone. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see John watching her closely and used the technique she had for dealing with the paparazzi and not showing any emotion on her face.

"I take two sugars and milk in my coffee and make it quite strong," Addison said, shooting him a faint smile "I think it's going to be a long night."

Chuckling, John studied her for a moment "You never answered my question, from before," he said slowly, "is there a reason for that?"

"I've known Sherlock for a very long time," Addison admitted, her brow furrowing as she tried to find the right words, "and while sometimes he can drive me insane and annoy the hell out of me… he's been there for me, through thick and thin, always loyal and always there. I can't imagine being without him – annoying traits and all."

John didn't reply for a while before he cleared his throat, "So, two sugars and milk?"

"Don't forget to make it strong."

It had been about half an hour since Sherlock had left and Addison couldn't help but feel slightly worried, instinctively taking out her phone, she cursed inwardly for not bringing her charger with her and put it back in her bag. Foot tapping on the floor, John finally stood up and headed to the door before pausing and looking at his hand – Addison followed his eye line and suddenly remembered that he had a stick usually when he walked.

"Looks like living with Sherlock has had a good effect on your health," Addison said, seeing the forgotten stick on top of some boxes in the corner.

John didn't answer as he walked across and grabbed the stick, "Just to be on the safe side," he muttered, meeting her eyes quickly "never know when it'll run out."

"Where are you going?" Addison asked, frowning as he headed to the door.

"To find Sherlock. I can't sit in here while he's out there."

Letting out a sigh, Addison shook her head, "John, he could be _anywhere_ in London… we don't even know where to start looking!"

Before John could answer a beep from the laptop quieted them both as the search result came back. "Now we do…" John muttered, rushing over to glance at the screen, "the murderer's on the move…"

Addison's eyes widened as he grabbed the laptop and she followed him downstairs, "What do you mean on the move?" she asked quickly, as they headed outside.

"He's left Baker Street and he's heading somewhere else… probably with Sherlock."

That feeling came back to Addison as John hailed a cab and she felt like an idiot. Sherlock _never_ ordered cabs… he wouldn't know when he needed one. Which meant the cab driver had just shown up, which also meant he could have been nearby when they phoned him….

The cab driver was the murderer.

"Oh shit," Addison whispered and got in the taxi after John, "Sherlock what have you got yourself into now?"

"Let me guess: he's in trouble?"

"You guessed right."


	6. Brotherly Love

"No, I need you to put me through to Detective Inspector Lestrade," Addison's eyes flickered over to the laptop screen on John's lap, "tell him Detective Inspector Hart phoned and the search result came up. Yes, he'll know what I mean!" hanging up, she shook her head, "some people, I honestly don't know."

"-left here, please. Left here," John interrupted her, giving the driver directions as the location of the phone came up again on the screen, "take it you didn't get through?" he asked, glancing at her quickly.

Addison sighed as she handed John back his phone, "Greg's went home for the night and they can't get a hold of him. Donovan's ignoring my calls, not that she'd come out anyway, unless something happens. And with Sherlock in the mix, something _is_ bound to happen."

"Yes, he does give the impression he doesn't live a normal life doesn't he?" John muttered and then stiffened as they pulled into a parking lot between two buildings, "Why the hell would they come here?" he asked, as he went into his wallet for some money.

Glancing at the buildings, Addison shook her head "I have no idea… I just wish that Sherlock had left a clue as to which one he went in."

"Well, that would make it too easy," he muttered darkly, accepting his change from the driver and opening the door.

Getting out of the cab after John, Addison felt a wave of unease as she seen the other cab parked in front of them and went over to put her hand on the engine. It was lukewarm and she just hoped that they weren't too late, "Okay, I'll take this building," she said pointing to her right, "and you take that one."

"If something happens, make a lot of noise," John called out as Addison ran towards the door, "I'll keep trying Lestrade and let him know we're here!"

Entering the quiet building, Addison stopped and tried to ignore the beating of her heart and listened out for any sign of Sherlock or anyone else in the silence. "Sherlock?" she called out and ran along the corridor, glancing into every room that she passed and wishing that she had gone with flats rather than heels today as they echoed loudly through the corridor, "Sherlock! Can you hear me?"

 _My feet are going to be in a hell of a state tomorrow_ she thought to herself, wincing when her heels pinched her toes slightly. She should have learned by now that a good pair of trainers were more appropriate for police work, no matter how pretty a pair of heels were.

Every room was dimly lit which didn't help much as Addison was sure on several occasions she could see someone in the room. But when she took a closer look, it was then that she realized that it was empty and would berate herself as she began her search again, running up the stairs at the end of the corridor two at a time to the next floor.

Sherlock was running out of time… and Addison hated that feeling of helplessness that was beginning to creep up on her. The murderer could be anywhere.

Stopping to catch her breath, Addison leant over and tried to catch her breath, she was just about to call out again when she froze at the sound of muffled voices from the end of the corridor and slowly stood up. "They would be in the building I'm in," she muttered and got out her gun, holding it out in front of her as she walked forward, glancing around for any sign of the murderer while being on her guard in case he jumped out at her. Wondering what the hell they could be talking about, Addison walked forward and tried to listen.

Just as she glanced into a room, a gunshot echoed loudly through the building and the fear choked her as she ran towards the source of the noise without thinking. "Sherlock!" Addison shouted, hoping with everything in her that he would reply as she pushed the double door open, "Sherlock!"

"I'm here… I'm fine," Sherlock said quickly, backing away from the cracked window with the bullet hole in it, "Same can't be said for him, though."

Looking down, Addison seen the cab driver from before and warily kicked away the gun that he was reaching for. "Any idea where the shooter is?" she asked, watching as Sherlock rushed over, "Get the gun."

"There's no point it isn't real," Sherlock muttered "and no, there's no sign of a shooter but I'll find him."

The cab driver coughed weakly and twitched a little as the blood poured out from the wound, "So this is the murderer?" Addison asked but frowned when Sherlock ignored her and picked up a pill bottle.

"Was I right?" Sherlock demanded, looming over the dying man and narrowed his eyes at him, "I was, wasn't I? Did I get it right?"

Addison looked at him incredulously as she lowered her gun, "What are you on about?"

"Shut up!" Sherlock snapped heatedly, throwing the bottle at the man in anger while Addison felt annoyed at how he had spoken to her, "Okay, tell me this. Your sponsor. Who was it? The one who told you about me, my fan. I _want_ a name."

The man was silent before he manage to rasp out an answer, " _No…_ "

"You're dying," Sherlock said darkly, his hands clenching into fists "but there's still time to hurt you. Give me a name."

"Sherlock, don't-"

But before Addison could say another word, Sherlock pressed his foot down hard on the cab driver's wound and glared down at him while he cried out in pain. Addison turned away and pressed her lips together, trying to block it out as Sherlock demanded for a name.

"MORIARTY!" the man twitched once more in pain before he fell still and his head slumped to the side.

Stepping back, Sherlock looked confused for a moment as Addison came by to stand next to him, "Moriarty…" he whispered, "so that's your name."

"Come on," Addison muttered, pushing her hair back from her face and feeling the exhaustion creep up on her as the adrenaline faded away, "John will want to know you're alright," she heard police sirens in the distance and sighed, "looks like Lestrade finally got my message."

Out of the corner of her eye, Addison seen Sherlock look at the other pill bottle on the table and she frowned remembering his words from before, "Why did you ask him if you were right?" she asked slowly, noticing how he tensed a little, "You weren't really going to take the pill were you?"

"This is how he managed to make them look like suicides at first," Sherlock said curtly, leading Addison out of the room, "they would take one pill and he would take the other. No way of knowing which the right pill was. It was a game of chance."

"And yet you never answered my question," Addison gave him a firm look, "Were you going to take that pill?"

"Addison-"

"Is life getting _that_ boring again, Sherlock?"

He stopped and looked at her, "Of course I wouldn't' have taken it," he snapped and then tried to calm down, "I just wanted to know if I had…"

"Outsmarted him," Addison finished his sentence and rolled her eyes, "of course, why am I not surprised."

As they headed into the corridor, Addison put her gun away back in the holster and noticed Sherlock watching her, "Would you have really used it?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

"If it stopped you from dying, yes… it wouldn't have been the first time I've used it," Addison replied, trying to stop herself from yawning, "protect and serve, remember?"

"You need to sleep. You look awful."

"Piss off."

Outside there was an ambulance and a few squad cars. Addison spotted Donovan and Lestrade and waved them over, "Sherlock found the killer," she said, pointing to the building that the two of them had just vacated, "he's on the second floor."

"What, you just left him?" Lestrade asked "What if he escapes?"

"He's dead," Sherlock said flatly, rolling his eyes, "so there's no fear in him escaping."

"And how exactly did he die?" Donovan asked suspiciously as she looked at Sherlock, "Did you have something to do with this?"

Addison shook her head, "A shooter from the other building that…" she stopped and wondered why John wasn't here, surely he would have seen or at least heard the shooter unless… "that I never got to check. I just ran in here on a whim," she finished saying and then looked at Sherlock, "c'mon, we should get you looked over."

"What? Why?" Sherlock frowned, "I'm fine. _I_ wasn't the one who was shot."

"Just do as your told," Addison scowled and gave him a push, "I'll talk to you in a minute, Greg."

She watched as they headed into the building and sitting on the back of the ambulance with Sherlock, Addison let out a shaky breath and glanced to the small group of people watching with interest at the goings on except for one, who stood there patiently with his eyes on Sherlock and herself.

They both sat there in silence while Sherlock kept pushing off the blanket that the ambulance men gave him, much to Addison's amusement, until Lestrade came back out alone and Addison gave him a tired smile, "Looks like we've lost that giant headache, doesn't it?" she joked.

"Definitely," he said, running a hand through his short hair, "I'm glad that this is all over."

Sherlock sighed audibly as another blanket was placed on his shoulders, "Why have I got this blanket?" he asked irritably, "They keep putting this blanket on me."

"Yeah, it's for shock," Lestrade explained, putting his hands into his coat pockets.

"I'm not in shock."

Lestrade snorted as he stood beside Addison, "Yeah, but some of the guys want to take photographs."

"I guess that will be someone's new screensaver," Addison laughed a little as Lestrade chuckled at Sherlock's face.

Ignoring them both, Sherlock glanced at the other building "So, the shooter. No sign?"

"Cleared off before we got here," Lestrade said, growing serious again, "did you see anything, Addie?"

She shook her head "I just heard the shot… by the time I got in the room he was long gone."

"A guy like this would have enemies, I suppose," Lestrade said thoughtfully, "one of them could have been following him, but… we've got nothing to go on. Again."

Giving the other man a small smirk, Sherlock squared his eyes, "Oh, I wouldn't say _that_ …" he murmured.

"Oh for god's sake, just show off already," Addison said, rolling her eyes.

"The bullet they just dug out of the wall's from a handgun," Sherlock spoke fast as he explained, in his opinion, the obvious points that no one else could ever see, "A kill shot over that distance, that kind of weapon. That's a crack shot we're looking for. But not just a marksman, a fighter. His hands couldn't have shaken at all, so clearly he's acclimatized to violence," Addison couldn't help but glance at John again and felt it in her gut that he was the shooter, especially when Sherlock spoke again, "He didn't fire until I was in immediate danger, though, so strong moral principle. You're looking for a man probably with a history of military service… and nerves of steel…"

He stopped talking and Addison looked up at him and noticed that his eyes had settled on John: he had finally connected the dots. "Are you sure about that Sherlock?" Addison asked pointedly, "Surely this was just a hit?"

"Actually, do you know what? Ignore me, Detective Inspector Hart is probably right," Sherlock said quickly much to Lestrade's surprise.

"Sorry?"

"Ignore all of that. It's just the er… the _shock_ talking," Addison tried not to smile as Sherlock wandered off and Lestrade grabbed his arm.

"Where are you going?"

"I just need to talk about the rent."

"I've still got questions though," Lestrade replied, frowning at him and then Addison, "We both do."

Addison shrugged and pulled the blanket more over her shoulders, "To be honest, Greg, mine can wait."

"Well, mine can't!"

Sherlock sighed and held up the blanket, "I'm in shock, look, I've got a blanket!"

"Sherlock!"

"Leave him be Greg," Addison stood up and walked inbetween the two men, "He did just catch us a serial killer."

Sherlock nodded, "More or less."

Glancing between the both of them, Lestrade gave them a suspicious look, "Okay…" he finally said, folding his arms, "we'll pull you in tomorrow, off you go."

"I believe you left a bag at my flat, Detective Inspector Hart?" Sherlock gave her a look that meant he needed to talk to her, "Care to share a taxi?"

Addison nodded, "I'll be in bright and early, Greg," she said as Lestrade opened his mouth to object, "after a good night's sleep."

As they headed over to John, Sherlock glanced at her "Anything that you hear next is between us, agreed?"

"Sherlock, I knew it was John before you did," Addison whispered, glancing around to make sure no one could hear them, "only _I_ knew he was in that building and that's how it's going to stay."

"Really?" Sherlock smiled a little and Addison raised her eyebrow at the admiration in his tone, "I think you're slowly becoming my favorite Detective Inspector at New Scotland Yard."

"That's because I'm the only one who puts up with you."

Holding up the police tape, Addison slipped under and gave John a smile, "Erm, Sergeant Donovan has just been explaining everything," John said calmly as he stood with his hands clasped behind his back, "The two pills. Dreadful business, isn't it? Dreadful."

"Hmm… genius though," Addison said, folding her arms, "it certainly stumped us on how he was killing all those people."

"Good shot," Sherlock said, his tone as calm as John's was and a small smile on his face as he looked intently at the other man.

Nodding, John gave no reaction to Sherlock's comment, "Yes. Yes, it must have been. Through that window."

"Well, you'd know," Addison murmured, tilting her head at John, "I mean, _you_ were in the same building as the shooter."

Sherlock chuckled, "Need to get the powder burns out of your fingers. Addison isn't going to say anything, not that I suppose you'd serve time for this," he added as an afterthought "but let's all avoid the court case."

"Are you alright?" Addison asked, as John cleared his throat and avoided their eyes.

"Yes, of course I'm all right."

"I think she means are you all right after killing a man-" Sherlock began to say but John interrupted him.

"Yes," he thought for a moment before smiling weakly at them both, "that's true, isn't it? But in my defense, he wasn't a very nice man."

Sherlock looked entertained, "No. No, he wasn't really, was he?"

"He was an evil son of a bitch in my book," Addison said, rolling her eyes, "you did us all a favor."

"And frankly, he was a bloody awful cabbie."

Addison couldn't help but laugh at John's comment, "That's true," Sherlock agreed after snorting in amusement "he was a bad cabbie. You should have seen the route he took us to get here."

Both John and Addison laughed as they walked away from the crime scene, "Stop it! We can't giggle, it's a crime scene. Stop it," John muttered under his breath but unable to stop smiling.

"Yes, it's especially bad if an officer of the law is seen laughing at a crime scene," Addison whispered, nudging Sherlock with her shoulder and he looked down at her grinning, "a man has just died, you know."

"John's the one who shot him, not me."

"Keep your voice down!"

They passed some other officers and Addison tried to look more serious as she nodded at them, "You were gonna take that damn pill, weren't you?" John asked seriously and Addison shared a look with Sherlock.

 _I wasn't the only one thinking that_

Sherlock shook his head as he put his hands into his pockets, "You're as bad as Addison. Of course I wasn't," he said trying to sound convincing, but John like Addison wasn't buying it, "Biding my time. I knew one of you would turn up."

"No you didn't," John scoffed, looking at him with narrowed eyes, "That's how you get your kicks, isn't it? You risk your life to prove you're clever."

Addison couldn't help but smile a little: John hadn't known Sherlock for that long but he had sussed him out quicker than she had. "Why would I do that?" Sherlock frowned.

"Because you're an idiot."

Sherlock smiled and thought for a moment before he looked at both of them, "Dinner?"

"Starving, how about you Addison?"

Yawning, Addison nodded "I think food before I sleep would be a good idea. I'm in, could we go to that Chinese place?"

"Will it still be open?" John asked and Sherlock nodded.

"Stays open till 2am… did you know, you can tell a good Chinese by the bottom third of the door handle?"

"No, I didn't… why's that?"

Before Sherlock could answer Addison's question, John stopped suddenly and grabbed Sherlock by the arm, "Sherlock. That's him, that's the man I was talking to you about." Addison followed his eyeline and seen that it was Mycroft standing with his umbrella in hand as usual.

This would be fun.

"I know exactly who that is," Sherlock muttered, his eyes narrowing onto his brother.

Mycroft smiled politely at the three of them, "So… another case cracked," he said causally, "how very public-spirited. Though that's never really your motivation, is it?"

"What are you doing here?" Sherlock sounded irritated and Addison folded her arms and glanced at John, who looked ready for a fight should it arise and she bit the inside of her cheek, she couldn't wait to see the look on his face when he found out who Mycroft really was.

"As ever, I'm concerned about you. And Miss Hart of course," Mycroft said, nodding to her, "you shouldn't let him run you ragged, my dear Addison."

Addison smiled tiredly, "Don't remind me, I probably look as awful as I feel."

"You could never look awful."

Sherlock rolled his eyes, "Yes, I've been hearing about your so called 'concern'!"

Mycroft chuckled and leaned on his umbrella slightly, "Always so aggressive. Did it never occur to you that you and I belong on the same side?"

"Oddly enough… no," Sherlock answered sarcastically.

"Sherlock, play nice," Addison said, putting a hand on his arm, "it's been a _good_ night, after all."

"I will if _he_ will."

"We have more in common than you'd like to believe," Mycroft continued, a flicker of amusement in his eyes as he watched Addison and Sherlock interact, "This petty feud between us is simply childish. People _will_ suffer…" Mycroft paused and Addison couldn't help but grin at the expression on John's worried face, "and you know how it always upset Mummy."

John frowned slowly and looked dumbfounded by what Mycroft just said and Addison let out a small giggle, "I upset her?" Sherlock frowned at his brother, "Me? It wasn't _me_ that upset her, Mycroft."

"Well, you didn't help the situation either, Sherlock," Addison shook her head at the two men, "your both as bad as each other."

"Oh, that's it, take _his_ side. Like you always do."

"I'm not taking anyone's side. And I do _not_ always take Mycroft's side!"

"No…no, wait…" John held up his hands and looked at disbelief at Sherlock "Mummy? Who's Mummy?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes, "Mother. _Our_ mother."

"This is Sherlock's brother… Mycroft," Addison said, smiling as she introduced them, "Mycroft, this is John Watson, Sherlock's new roommate but you probably already knew that."

John was speechless as Sherlock turned to Mycroft, "Putting on weight again?" he taunted "What a shame."

"Losing it, in fact," Mycroft answered not rising to the bait, "and you're quite right Addison, I was already aware of this."

"He's your… brother," John repeated, still frowning at them all, "this… this is your brother?"

Sherlock's eyes never left Mycroft's "Of course he's my brother."

"So he's not…"

"Not what?"

Addison and the two Holmes brothers looked at John curiously while he tried to find the right words, "I don't know… criminal mastermind?"

"You're close enough there, John."

Mycroft rolled his eyes, "For goodness' sake," he muttered "I occupy a minor position in the British government."

"Correction. He _is_ the British government," Sherlock said, curling his lip slightly at his brother, "when he's not too busy being the British secret service or the C.I.A on a freelance basis."

Addison bit her lip to stop her from smiling any wider, "He's just concerned Sherlock," she said, her voice shaking a little with laughter at the look she got in return, "it's quite sweet actually."

"That's your opinion, Addison and feel free to keep it to yourself," Sherlock gave Mycroft a mocking smile, "Good night brother, try not to start a war before I get home, you know what it does for the traffic."

He walked away and Addison smiled at Mycroft, "Nice to see you as always," she said jokingly as John still looked stunned by this revelation about his new roommate.

"And you my dear, keep safe now."

"So, when you say you're concerned about him…" John said slowly, squinting his eyes at Mycroft, "you actually are concerned?"

Mycroft frowned slightly, "Yes, of course."

"I mean… it actually _is_ a childish feud?"

Addison rolled her eyes, "One that has been going on since they were children. It's driven me mad at times being stuck between them."

"He's always been so resentful," Mycroft sighed, watching as his brother impatiently waited for the other two "you can imagine the Christmas dinners."

John looked to Addison and she shook her head, "Trust me, you can't…" she whispered, remembering last year's fiasco.

"We'd better…Erm…" John glanced at Mycroft's assistant and cleared his throat, "Hello, again."

"Hello," she actually looked up from her phone and Addison shared a smile with Mycroft.

"We met earlier on this evening," John muttered, avoiding Addison and Mycroft's gaze and when the assistant merely arched an eyebrow, he shook his head, "Okay, goodnight."

Squeezing Mycroft's arm, Addison rolled her eyes as she laughed, "Goodnight Mycroft, I'll keep an eye on them both," she assured him as she walked away quickly to catch up with Sherlock and John. Linking her arm through Sherlock's she shook her head as he shot Mycroft one more annoyed look over his shoulder, "Don't be like that, Sherlock, at least he cares."

"I didn't ask him to care. Why does he care?" he muttered, not reacting to her holding onto his arm while they walked, although John did raise both of his eyebrows, "I hope one of you has cash?"

"I don't have any… I left my bag in the flat," Addison and Sherlock looked at him simultaneously.

John scoffed, "So I pay for all the taxis _and_ the Chinese?"

"You just killed a man and we're covering for you," Sherlock pointed out, "the least you could do is buy us dinner."

"And pay for the cab home," Addison added, winking at him when he shook his head.

Despite the grumbling, John couldn't help but smile, "What the hell have I got myself into?" he asked warily as Sherlock and Addison shared a look and smiled at each other.


End file.
